The Necessary Evil
by nicrt
Summary: If there's to be a Prince Lothor in this newest incarnation of Voltron, I want him to be a friend to Shiro. No, listen. Because even if Shiro and Lothor are friends, that doesn't mean he isn't an enemy to the rest of the universe. And yes; the prince becomes evil in the end.
1. What He Remembers

**Disclaimer:** Characters/factions/items that were not mentioned in the Voltron franchise belong to me. I do not own any characters/factions/items that do belong to the Voltron franchise (e.g. Voltron Lions, Allura).

* * *

To most, Shiro is the Champion of the Gladiator Rings, winner of a hundred matches and favourite of the people.

To Prince Lothor, bastard son of the King, one of Galra's great warriors and Captain of the Fleet of Doom, Shiro is his friend.

What Shiro does not remember, Lothor does: he sees the Champion's skills for the first time since he's heard of his cunning and prowess in the ring, taking on monster after monster each time they throw him into the ring. The first time they met, was when Lothor orders the guards to prepare Shiro to fight him. It's a private setting of course because this Lothor is not too arrogant to let his pride wither in the ring if Shiro manages to defeat him. He is a captain, a warrior and a prince; there's no way he'll risk that much for some slave.

None have ever (dared try to) defeat him; none were ever like Shiro, who kept him on guard for a long duration of their first fight. In the end they've spent many times doing battle as training, to keep Shiro on his toes and to keep Lothor entertained. Each time, neither has ever gotten the upper hand over the other. Each time, the battle ends in a draw.

Shiro breaks the constant echos of their pained grunts and tired pants first. "Why even bother coming after some small fry like me?"

Lothor smirks. "If you were small fry, you'd be dead by now."

There's been blood shed but no more than superficial wound. There's been jabs thrown but only remarks on how poor their form seemed that day. Lothor sometimes goes all out because of the frustrations of military and royalty; Shiro shoulders it because he knows he can't do anything else but survive. They continue this confusing sense of camaraderie when Lothor says:

"I hate my father."

Their swords were set aside. They spoke of the horrors of the Empire, the iron rule and blood thirsty regime. The twisted machinations of metal and magic by Haggar, the dead and destruction left in Zarkon's wake. His mother, not a Galran, taken away from him. Lothor wants it changed. To end. He would make a rule that's fair and prosperous once he has the throne. If he ever gets the throne.

"You need a rebellion then." Shiro explains. "I'm sick of all this pain too."

And they plan. They gather numbers. Shiro amongst the prisoners and slaves, Lothor amongst the soldiers and nobles. They gain a following. Each day when they do battle now, they spoke of strategy and opportunity. They shared stories, sometimes smiles and laughter. It felt good to have a friend when you were among enemies. And they were almost there, almost ready!

Haggar makes Shiro into her latest pet project. Lothor is forced to watch alongside his father, as they break Shiro. His arm is taken first, replaced by wires and gears, quintessence and crystals. They cut into flesh, delve deep into bone and nerve. It had to be as good as his original arm somehow, King Zarkon remarked.

It was a warning. And Lothor had no choice but to concede, lest they torture Shiro in some other form and way. Their meetings stop. He hasn't heard of the Champion in the months he's away with his fleet.

Then the crew began whispering of the escaped human, hair white from stress and a metal arm that glowed purple. Lothor couldn't help the relief that surged together with envy at the news.

More news came, different than the other insurgents of the Empire. The last of the Alteans are alive and they have with them the Voltron and their Paladins. Another bug to be squashed, Lothor thinks sadly.

And he sees for the first time, from the helm of his ship, the newest Paladin of the Black Lion. White hair, a lateral scar and a metal arm that glowed purple. He hears himself order his second in command, quietly and quickly lower the solar shields.

Perhaps there is still hope after all.


	2. What He Wants

**Disclaimer:** Characters/factions/items that were not mentioned in the Voltron franchise belong to me. I do not own any characters/factions/items that do belong to the Voltron franchise (e.g. Voltron Lions, Allura).

 **A/N:** Continuation of this where Prince Lotor is Shiro's bestest fwen evah :3 (sorry). What Lotor (I misspelled it as Lothor before, it looks cool w an H tho) wants is his friend back.

Phew that was a doozy. I sortof have this little au? headcanon? planned out already, up to when Prince Lothor becomes that evil version I mentioned before. How do you evilise someone so pure though? I can't believe I actually like this Lothor wow.

OH YAH! This is a companion piece to the fic called Monster Fall. It takes place in the same setting and timeline, and I guess if season 2 takes a different route, it's an au.

For better finding, look up my Dark Space series on AO3 :D

* * *

So when the first time they met again ever since the tragedy that was Shiro's arm, Shiro does not remember him. He's been injured since being thrown around in that wormhole fiasco, and the Black Lion's taken some pretty heavy hits. The Fleet of Doom had been tasked to find the scattered Voltron Paladins and thank whatever deity Galrans believe in that Lothor had found Shiro first.

He woke up screaming and struggling, trying to get away from the glowing yellow eyes and sharp white fangs. He has no bayard, but that new arm of his is a pain in the neck. Lothor had personally come down to the medical wing in order to talk sense into Shiro. The hurt he felt when Shiro hadn't recognise him…

Shiro knows his fighting style though; how to block, how to parry and how to dance with Lothor's blade. It's this muscle memory that makes the Black Paladin pause and ask: _Do I know you?_

Lothor smiles sadly. _You used to._

xxx

It took a few hours to get the idea that there were 'good' Galrans to stick with Shiro. A longer time to get him to believe Lothor's intentions were genuine. That they were 'friends' before and they had that uprising coming along.

Lothor doesn't mention about the procedure though, barely even looks at Shiro's new arm. There's that guilty reminder that he had been the cause for Shiro's pain and likely his amnesia.

"Where are the others?" Shiro asks, once he's calm down some.

"I've sent some ships ahead; tracking them, no orders for capture." Lothor explains. "We'll find your…team."

It was a long time before they managed to find them. Months that pass in a blink of an eye; months where Shiro and Lothor managed to rehash their one-sided camaraderie. There was mostly training again, and Lothor's exhilarated to fight against someone worthy again. Shiro however…he wasn't putting all into it. He was cautious, a bottle of many pains and not enough of mental strength.

One day, during another one of their bouts again, Lothor pushed all of Shiro's wrong buttons. The amnesia Shiro felt, the sense of worthlessness he must have felt, the pain of being the Galrans' slave. Shiro went from stoic to savage; the slight break in his hard emotional armour was enough to send him into a mental berserk. He punched and kicked, slashed at and pierced through; Shiro wasn't the calculated warrior of the Ring then.

 _Broken soldier_ , was what his men would have called it.

They didn't talk for days after that, if only because Shiro was mad at Lothor. The prince was fine with this; he wanted his friend back, pre-Haggar, brave and collected. A traumatised mind sometimes needs to face their past in order to move on. Lothor would know; it's what he did in order to proceed with his revenge.

xxx

The time when they finally meet with the others was a hostile one, no more than when Shiro had first awoken. The green and blue Paladins were furious; the yellow and red ones seemed more accepting. And when the two Alteans stepped up to meet with them, Lothor was blown away by the Princess's…everything.

Now was the time to begin his vengeance.

Now was the time his father payed for the lives he's taken.

Now was the time to do what he's always wanted to do.

And nothing will stand in his way for it.


	3. What He Knows

**Disclaimer:** Characters/factions/items that were not mentioned in the Voltron franchise belong to me. I do not own any characters/factions/items that do belong to the Voltron franchise (e.g. Voltron Lions, Allura).

 **A/N:** More of Good!Lothor stuff! And this time, I hope to give him a valid reason to love Allura (I hope those who dislike the old Lothor's "love" for her can understand the level of crush he has for her in this).

* * *

"You are…" The princess starts, coming up next to him in one of the Castle's observation deck, "Zarkon's son?"

The Prince had resigned himself to here when acquaintances had been made. Shiro had broke away for more familiar faces, a fact that stung Lothor but he accepted it anyways. He's made himself both valuable asset and political hostage by staying here alone; in the case his fleet does decide to favor the 'capture or kill on sight order', they wouldn't do it with him aboard the ship.

He smiles at her, his lips pulling at the scars on his handsome face. "Bastard son, to be specific."

She's frowning now, confused at his admission. "But…you are heir apparent? The prince next in line to the throne?"

Is she asking this for advantage, politically or millitaristic? "Perhaps. I'm a half breed actually." He gives her a knowing grin. "My mother was half Altean."

She looks shocked now.

He chuckles, a grim sound. "Don't look like it do I?" He lifts a hand, turning it to see the back and then palm. "I don't look like them either."

The princess takes a step closer into his personal space, curious and observant over his facial details. True, he didn't look like the typical Galran. And he had the features of an Altean too. Pointy ears and hair tied back into a neat ponytail; purple skin with tufts of fur, glowing yellow eyes.

"What's your game really?" She then asked, stepping back. "Why help us? Why go against your father?"

The mood he was in, calm and calculate, turned dark as she asked. His lips pursed a little, turning away to look back out to the galaxies outside.

"My father is a cruel and selfish bastard. He's greedy for power and wants nothing more but to rule the very universe. The people want to change that. They want to see a universe free of his tyranny and safe from his wants and takes for himself."

He looks back at her, a small sad smile on his face. She notices the more tragic and private emotions of his.

"Is that the official statement?" She asks, leaning on to the railing of the deck. "I could say the same thing; but…" her fists clenches, angry and alone. "I want Zarkon to pay for what he's done to my people. To my father."

It was strange, speaking about this to a total stranger. "Shiro told you of my mother I presume?"

She glances at him, not at all surprised by his guess. He's not at all shocked at Shiro's admission.

"Let's see." He leans against the railing too, a little beside her. "Personally? I want him to pay for what he's done to my mother." A mirthless scoff. "Alteans…are not his favourite people in the universe to put it nicely."

"So I've seen." She muses wryly. "Shiro…has never mentioned about this before." She tries to judge his reaction with this information. "About you."

"So he's mentioned." Lothor grimaces. "He didn't remember me when we first met again either. It seems that the trauma of being a Galran prisoner was severe enough to make him forget."

A quiet settled over them then, Lothor left to dwell in the frigid memories of Shiro's pained screams and his father's evil smile.

"In any case," the Princess held out a hand to him with a smile, "thank you. For being there for him, and for helping in the cause."

Lothor gives her a half-smile but grasps her hands firmly. It's calloused like she's seen actual battle and Lothor can't help admire her convictions and bravery.

And now he knows that the cogs of the future have finally made their move.


End file.
